Bullet With My Name On It
by C. Allan Churchill
Summary: Benny shot the Courier, took the chip, and left him for dead. The Courier, a hard man with a quick draw, wants nothing but revenge, even if that means putting himself or others in harm's way.
1. Opening

Bullet With My Name On It

Benny slept uneasily. Perhaps he could chalk it up to the recent long walks through the Mojave with the Khans messing up his sleep schedule. But no. Something deeper occupied his mind. Something existential. Karmic. Yeah. Like some wrongdoing from his past was out to get him. Benny shrugged off the thought. _Nothing booze can't fix, _he mused as he rolled out of his bed and put on his trademarked checkered jacket. He felt the Platinum Chip in his jacket pocket. The oversized chip felt uncomfortable there, for some reason…

"Yeah, some booze is what I need…" Benny declared, before realizing that he was talking to himself. Was he the kind of person that talked to himself now? No, stress, he was just stressed. That was all. He looked at the shelves and and table in his room. No drinks to be seen. Scanning around further, he found there was nothing alcoholic anywhere in his room. _Damn… _he thought, _I'll check the restaurant._

He made his way down to the Tops main floor. Walking to the elevator, he saw that the Casino's floor was almost empty. It must have been sometime after midnight, when only the most perseverant gamblers stuck around. His chairmen, who guarded the casino, outnumbered the place's customers. Lately, gamblers had been afraid of the upcoming battle and many shied away from New Vegas, preferring the more safe areas of the NCR. This meant less money coming in from gambling, and therefore less money to pay the guards and dealers. Benny made a mental note to take some of them off of payroll while walking. He found the restaurant.

"What's on your mind, Benny baby? You look like you've seen a ghost." The bartender greeted him as he sat down in front of him on a stool. Now, normally Benny didn't discuss anything personal to his underlings, but he felt different tonight. And besides, anybody who gave him free drinks (even though an employee) earned a certain level of trust from Benny.

"Pour me something strong and I'll tell you." Benny ordered. The bartender quickly complied, whipping up a Vodka and Sarsaparilla mix and placing it on the counter. Benny took a sip, decided that the drink disagreed with him in just the right way, and then took a second, bigger drink.

"Well, I recently went on a, uh, business trip, dig? And it went about as well as I could have expected. I secured an item that I consider essential to the chairmen's future enterprises and I'm almost sure that I tied up all loose ends. But still, I find something bugging me. Nagging me at the back of my head. Like someone's coming after me. That's why I can't sleep and that's why I'm sitting at your bar." Benny explained. He instantly regretted his words, thinking that he had said too much. He didn't like to talk about his feelings or mention any vulnerabilities, preferring to cast a suave, tough image. Benny knew that the bartender was a trustworthy guy and wouldn't say anything, but at the same time he made sure to check his words in the future.

The server of drinks paused for a bit, pondering his boss's words. A few times before he had listened to the man in the checkered suit wax about his problems, but nothing involving his feelings. He considered his advice carefully.

"Well boss, while there's a line between protecting yourself and paranoia and, you don't seem paranoid to me, if I may be so bold to say. Still, it wouldn't hurt to up your security. The strip's been unstable lately, anyway." Benny nodded, but grimaced. He didn't want to spend extra caps on hired guns. He wanted to make cuts. But maybe peace of mind was worth the sticker price. He would see about adding bodyguards in the morning. He thanked the bartender and headed back out to the main floor, deciding to observe the scant gambling from up the stairs.

A couple of gamblers sat at one of Benny's blackjack tables. Perhaps they could be a married couple, both of them wearing shabby gambling attire. Definitely NCR vacationers. Not many other types passed through the Tops doors. The man appeared to be down on his luck, Benny saw him lose a couple hands, and smiled. Suckers never seemed to know when to quit. And Benny had assigned one of his best dealers to that table. The gambler's wife seemed to be watching instead of playing. That was fine. Her husband was bringing in income for the Tops. Maybe Benny's mood was improving.

"Hey if it isn't King Benny! How's it going baby? Celebrating our 'ole 'business trip?'" Swank asked, strolling up behind Benny, who jumped at Swank's first word. "Woah there, easy now. I don't bite, unless I'm _very_ drunk."

"I'm alright!" Benny defended himself quickly. "A bit jumpy, that's all." Swank didn't say anything else, opting to observe the big loser at the Blackjack table, who appeared to be decreasing in chips and increasing in anger. They watched in silence for a few minutes.

"Say, Swank…" Benny broke in, "you ever get a kind of ominous feeling?" Swank eyed him quizzically, and stated that he didn't really understand what Benny was getting at.

"Well, there's that old saying, dig, I think it goes something like 'Somewhere, everyone has a bullet with their name on it.'" Swank nodded, familiar with the phrase. Benny continued, "Well, it's supposed to be just a saying right?"

"Of course, baby, ain't nothing but some old saying." Swank agreed, simply wanting Benny to quit yapping. In Swank's mind, Chairmen weren't supposed to talk about their feelings, or hopes, dreams and fears. "What's gotten into you, anyways?" he inquired.

"I'm just nervous, that's all. I'll be fine." Benny replied, thinking about the Courier he had shot through the forehead a week earlier. He shuddered, and felt Maria, his 9mm at his side, to make sure it was still there. The gambler and his wife had lost all their chips, and the man angrily stormed out of the casino, followed by his wife who apologized to the doorman. Benny concluded that everywhere there was a loser, or someone who was plain unlucky. He thought that might justify killing the courier. But then again…

"I'm sorry I'm bothering you, Swank…" Benny began while Swank sighed inaudibly, "but I can't shake the feeling that somewhere out there, there really is a bullet with my name on it."

* * *

_The following day…_

A man strode towards the bench outside of the Gun Runner's shop. He moved like a shadow, like death himself. He wore a black, rounded desperado cowboy hat which covered up a scar on his forehead. The scare made a shape like a bullet hole, which drew a lot of stares and questions from passersby. This man was not the sociable type, and preferred to keep the scar covered. His duster wrapped around a bulletproof armored vest on his torso, and around the duster wrapped a bandolier. He looked so deadly and serious that venomous radscorpions were known to take one look at him and crawl the other way. The mystery man set to work at the bench.

With his fingerless gloves he withdrew a pouch that was tied around his waist. He withdrew the 9 milimeter case that he had searched the ground for at the Goodsprings cemetery a few days back, and set it down. Then he withdrew a bit of lead which, using the press on the bench, he shaped into a bullet with an opening at the back. Then he poured first some gunpowder into the opening, and then a primer. Before he placed the bullet in the case, he took out a small pocketknife and scratched a single word into the side of the bullet:

_BENNY_


	2. The Job

Joana slipped into her 'Sexy Sleepwear' lingerie and adjusted her fishnet stockings. She had just finished with one of her customers, sent him out the door nearly limping. She was definitely worth the man's 50 caps. Joana happened to be one of Gomorrah's prostitutes, along with Deborah, who had been in the business with her for a while now, and Sadie, a new girl hired because one of the current prostituted disappeared after a night with Clanden, a friend of the casino. Joana sat on the edge of her bed, deciding to take a breather before taking a bath, but she never got the chance. Someone had knocked on the door.

"Joana here! Come in!" She called in her high-pitched, seductive voice. At this hour the only people who walked into Joana's room were men (and sometimes women) who desired her services. The man who came into her room today didn't look any different. He was wearing a duster with metal plating covering his torso, and a black, wide cowboy hat. _Some kind of mercenary man_, Joana thought. She had dealt customers like him before.

"I have a job for you." The man stated in a quiet but firm baritone. His voice didn't sound like it got much use. Joana smiled.

"You don't need to be so formal, cowboy, I do this sort of job all the time. You're looking at 50 caps for an hour and 175 for-" Joana began listing her terms, but the man cut her off.

"No, not that kind of job. I should have been more clear, but I'm not sure where to start." Reflected the man, stroking the beard of his goatee and standing in silence for a few seconds, "Do you know of Benny?" he asked. Joana thought for a moment before nodding.

"I'm familiar with him, yeah. He's an on-and-off customer of mine, in fact. Why?" queried Joana. The man in her room then removed his hat to reveal a bullet hole scar on his forehead.

"Benny did this to me. I'm a Courier, and he shot me for an item I was delivering. I'm going to kill him and take it back." The Courier imparted while Joana's eyes increasingly widened. Then she furrowed her brow in confusion.

"What does this have to do with me? If you're gonna take him out personally, it ain't none of my business. Just go into the Tops and blast him." Joana ordered, her voice changing from seductive and melodious to a more normal, annoyed tone.

The Courier related that he sent Sadie, Joana's new coworker, to the Tops disguised as a gambler the day before. She reported to the Courier that Benny hired a cadre of bodyguards who defended him at all times when he was on the main floor.

"And he'll recognize me. You don't just forget a face that you shot a week ago. As soon as he sees me he'll sic the guards and run for it." The Courier finished.

"Alright then, you need to tell me what you want me to do." replied Joana. She didn't know why, but she found herself trusting this man. She was actually considering doing whatever the Courier told her, maybe because he could be her way out of Gomorrah and the Strip...

"Right… Well, since Benny will have guards on the main floor, I need you to get him to his room or one of the suites. I came to Gomorrah looking for a lady to seduce him and get him alone, and I s'pose it helps that you already know him," The Courier was surprised that Joana was nodding along instead of growing apprehensive toward the job, like he thought she might, so he pressed on, saying, "once you get him alone you'll have to keep him there. There're a couple ways you might handle this… if you own any handcuffs-" Joana admitted that she did-"you can restrain him, or maybe lock him in a room. Or if he pours you drinks, and I think he probably will, you can slip this into his and he'll go unconscious for a couple hours." The Courier stated, pulling out a small white pill.

"What's that?" Joana questioned. The Courier explained that the pill consisted of concentrated Cazadore venom, enough to knock a man like Benny out for a good deal of time. Administering the pill would be the easiest way to incapacitate Benny so the Courier could go in the room for the kill. Joana was confused as to how the Courier would gain entry to the room without being stopped by the guards.

"Well, they only guard him when he goes down to the main floor. Benny think's he's safe on the upper levels. The guards won't recognize me like he will, besides I'll be wearing a different hat and some glasses just in case, and I'll go up to his room and take care of business. I just need your help." spoke the Courier, saying the last sentence more softly. Joana's tone changed to one of business.

"I can take the pill and put it in his drink, or handcuff him after getting him in bed, but the job will be risky. I'll need a payment." She demanded. The Courier began to pull out a pouch that presumably held bottlecaps but Joana raised a hand to stop him.

"I don't want caps, I'm thinking of something more like a...favor." Joana declared. The Courier cocked an eyebrow. "No, not _that_ kind of favor. I don't mean sex. I…" Joana glanced toward the door before lowering her voice to barely above a whisper, "I have a lover. You might think it's weird, since I work as a prostitute but it's true. His name is Carlitos Wayne. He worked here, on the floor. We had a secret relationship, I guess. But Cachino, one of the Omertas, found out about it. Cachino made him a scapegoat, accused him of stealing Omerta funds. They were going to kill him! He left the casino, but not the Strip. The Omertas are tracking anyone who leaves the Strip, you see, they'll hunt Carlitos down if they see him leaving, or if they find him… So he's hiding around here somewhere, maybe at one of the other casinos."

"I need you to find Carlitos and get him out out of the Strip. The Omertas will know about it so you've got to defend him. You look like the sort who can deal with a few thugs. Then after you get Carlitos off and deal with Benny, take me to Carlitos. And, well, if it's not too much trouble… well, forget it." Joana suddenly ended.

"What is it?" asked the Courier. Joana paused for a moment, apparently debating internally.

"Well, it will make your job harder, but I feel an obligation to the two other girls who work here. Deborah is like a sister to me, and well, Sadie deserves better than the life of an Omerta hooker. Could you take them along with Carlitos? They can just walk out of the Strip dressed like regular gamblers when the shift ends, and join you."

The Courier thought about the proposition. The man was already a bit familiar with Sadie. He liked the girl's relative innocence and long blonde hair. She had done well on reconnaissance for him, too. His thoughts shifted to the job. He'd have to protect three people, all potentially unarmed, against an unknown number of hostiles to get to the (relative) safety of Freeside, the slummy area surrounding the Strip. He was grateful that the Omertas all wore suits instead of body armor. He would have the upper hand in that regard.

"Deal. I'll get those three off the Strip, I'm guessing that means I lay down fire on any Omertas who follow us out the Strip gates, as long as you get Benny by the short hairs so I can deal with him." The Courier offered.

"Deal." Joana accepted. She told the Courier that she would go to Benny when she got of for the night in a couple of hours. She was a professional. It wouldn't take long to get Benny alone in his room and keep him there. The Courier told her that he would find Carlitos in the meantime, and lead him and the other girls off of the Strip, then come back to the Tops to kill Benny and escort Joana out. He figured that once he got the first three people out, the Omertas would offer little resistance to his and Joana's leaving.

The game was set. The Courier was going to plant his bullet between Benny's eyes before the night was through. Or so he thought.


	3. The Escort

The Courier stepped out of Gomorrah, tasked with finding Carlitos. It was easy to make a good guess of where the man might be. A man trying to hide on the Strip didn't have many places to go. The Lucky 38 was closed, and the Omertas in Gomorrah wanted him dead, so those were out. It was unlikely that the Ultra-Luxe would take him in, or the Tops. Besides, Carlitos probably didn't have the caps to hide away indefinitely in a casino. The more economical choice would be renting a room or even hiding in the Vault 21 hotel. If not, Carlitos could be somewhere in Michael Angelo's workshop or the radio station, but those both seemed unlikely. The Courier began his search at the hotel.

"Welcome to the Vault 21 Hotel! Can I interest you in renting a room?" came the cheery voice of Sarah, the place's manager. The Courier looked her over. She appeared young, blonde, peppy, and nervous.

"No. I'm looking for a man named Carlitos." he replied curtly. Sarah's eyes went a little wide and she hesitated before responding that she didn't know anybody by the name of Carlitos. Her voice was barely more than a squeak.

"I know you're lying. Listen, I'm not with the Omertas. I'm here to get Carlitos off the Strip. Now where is he?" Sarah seemed a bit relieved to know The Courier wasn't going to murder Carlitos inside her hotel. She informed him that she was letting Carlitos stay in hiding in a makeshift room, and pointed him towards the diner where he would most likely be.

Carlitos sat alone at a booth in the subterranean diner. His glass, formerly full of scotch, was empty, and he didn't feel like bothering anybody for a refill. The Courier strode up beside him, and spoke straight to the point.

"Joana from Gomorrah sent me. I agreed to get you and a couple girls out of the Strip safely if she went to the Tops and restrained Benny for me. It's a long story but we don't have time right now. Joana's at the Tops now and I need to get you out and then go to her. The plan only works if we time it right, otherwise Joana is in danger. Come with me." Summarized the Courier. Carlitos, who was dressed in normal pre-war clothes and a fedora, stared at his empty glass for a few seconds before answering.

"Okay, I'll come, but how do I know I can trust you?" he asked.

"You can't."

* * *

Carlitos met the Courier outside the hotel after grabbing a few essentials from his room, including a large .44 magnum revolver. The Courier noted some imbalance in the man's step and a glassy look in his eye. Carlitos was at least a little drunk, and wouldn't be a very good shot. The Courier motioned for him to follow, and they walked past all the casinos until they were past Gomorrah and saw Sadie and Deborah, in gambler's outfits standing near the Strip's exit.

"Hey there! I can't tell you how glad I am to see you again." Sadie called out. She had a playful voice that made it hard to tell if she was flirting or serious. Her white blonde hair shined in the artificial light. She wore a pale pink dress, the skirt of which was just short enough for the Courier's liking, and a dainty hat. Her counterpart Deborah had a much shabbier dress and one of those hats with a veil over the face. She was older for one of the Gomorrah ladies, and very glad to be leaving.

"Thank you for doing this for us. Really." Deborah added. The Courier nodded. He saw that neither woman had arms or armor. Two of his charges were defenseless, and the other one too inebriated to shoot straight.

"There isn't much time to waste. I can take you all up the main street until we pass the King's building. After that I have to go back to get Joana. You'll be relatively safe once we're that far from the Strip. Just stay behind me and let me handle whatever comes up." The three went single file behind The Courier, first Carlitos, then Deborah and finally Sadie. They walked out of the Strip's gates.

The main street seemed clear. The Securitrons outside the Strip's north gate kept the place more or less clean of thugs. The Courier and company walked. All of them, especially Sadie in the rear tried not to look back. The Courier figured that since no Omertas stopped them on the way out they had successfully made the slip and now only needed to worry about thugs in Freeside who wanted to rob them. They walked until they reached the intersection where the King's School of Impersonation stood. The Courier thought they had reached safety, and was about to turn around and tell them to go on alone while he went back for Joana. Then he heard Sadie scream.

He wheeled around, whipping out twin longbarrel .357 revolvers. Carlitos stood next to him, brandishing his .44. A man in a white pinstriped pre-war suit had come up behind Sadie and grabbed her, now pointing his 10mm at side of her head. Two other men, equally armed and dressed, flanked him on both sides, but they were standing back a few meters. One pointed his gun at Carlitos, the other at the Courier. Deborah ran behind the Courier and cowered. Sadie was struggling to escape, squirming and trying to elbow the man behind her, to no avail.

"What are you doing outside the Strip with two of our whores and Carlitos?" asked the man pointing his weapon at Sadie.

"Let them go you piece of shit or I'll shoot!" Carlitos roared shaking his gun at the man.

"I know you won't shoot. You've always been soft." the man replied, beginning to slowly back away. The Courier knew he needed to act immediately or things would escalate, or worse, Sadie would get hurt. The Courier was fond of the girl, and maybe even had an attraction. He didn't know. A standoff and a potential gunfight wasn't a good place to evaluate one's feelings.

"I'm warning you!" Carlitos yelled, still shaking his piece. He fired a warning shot into the ground in front of the Omerta, but it ricocheted off of the asphalt and grazed Sadie's left lower leg. She cried out in pain. The center Omerta swore and his two allies opened fire on Carlitos. He jumped behind a nearby pre-war car, catching a 10mm bullet to the shoulder in the process. The Courier acted fast. Shots ripped from both of his revolvers, one catching the left Omerta between the eyes and the other shot hitting the right Omerta in the neck. The former dropped backwards, dead, and the latter dropped his weapon, clutched his neck and fell to his knees. Blood spurted out of the neck and he made gurgling sounds, attempting to breathe. The center Omerta, now the only one left, didn't do anything. He didn't want to take his gun off of Sadie. The Courier didn't want to shoot at him and risk hurting the girl. The Omerta stood his ground while Sadie began to bleed. He still needed to collect the bounty on Carlitos, but he no longer had any support. He wasn't the kind of man to show fault or weakness.

"Pussy. I know you won't do anything." The Omerta taunted. All of the sudden shots came from beside The Courier. Carlitos emptied his revolver at the Omerta, but his drunkenness and injured shoulder made him a terrible shot. Most of the bullets went over the Omerta's head. The Omerta finally opened fire, his attention on Carlitos. The Courier decided it was now or never. He pulled the trigger on his left revolver, aiming for the antagonist's pistol but hitting his hand. The Omerta swore again and dropped his gun. Suddenly defenseless, he cut his losses. Shoving Sadie to the ground in front of him, he turned tail and started to run back toward the Strip. The Courier put a couple of rounds in his leg and he fell face first onto the road. He began crawling away and whimpering.

The Courier ran up to Sadie and checked on her. She sat on the ground, sniffling with tears in her eyes. The Courier sat beside her and put a protective arm around her after holstering his guns. She was still bleeding, but the wound wasn't severe. At most it would produce a limp. Carlitos was drunkenly trying to reload his gun, which took some effort. Deborah had stopped cowering and came to Sadie's side, comforting her profusely and thanking the Courier. After a few moments the Courier addressed everyone.

"I don't think they'll send anyone else, and besides we'll be out of here before they do. The Omertas' influence doesn't reach much farther than the Strip. You are all free now." Carlitos nodded a thank you, and said that he would get his shoulder patched up at the Old Mormon Fort on the north part of Freeside for Joana. Deborah thanked the Courier once more, and offered some caps to him, which he refused, eliciting another thank you. She walked with Carlitos, but her destination was unknown. Sadie turned her head to the Courier's.

"Th-thank you, I thought for sure-" she started, but began crying in earnest. She calmed down after a few moments.

"We still aren't safe out here, and I need to get Joana still." Said the Courier, instantly regretting his businesslike tone and apparent apathy toward her. Her icy blue eyes with tears around the edges quickened his heart more than the gang of Omertas he had just dealt with ever could. He considered things for a moment.

"What's your plan, Sadie? I can take you anywhere in Freeside, and then when I'm done with Benny, anywhere else after that," he asked, adding, "as long as you're safe." He didn't remember addressing anybody so warmly since he woke up after being shot in the head.

"I, well… I don't have anywhere to go. I don't have any family, or home, or anything. That's how I wound up at Gomorrah. It meant that I could have food and a place to sleep, and some safety. If I didn't have that job I'd probably still be in Freeside, selling my body to survive." She said. The Courier had never really thought about the fact that prostitution was the only choice for some girls in Freeside. He promised himself to make sure that Sadie never had to sell herself again.

"Look, for now you can stay at the Atomic Wrangler. It's just up the street. I have a room. Just tell them you're with Courier Six. The place has bodyguards and the Garret twins will make sure nobody messes with you. They owe me a favor anyway for negotiating a deal between them and the Followers. I'll go to the Tops and then come right back for you after I drop Joana off with Carlitos. Okay?"

"Okay." replied Sadie. While she didn't have any romantic feelings, She really, really trusted this man. Especially since he just saved her life. She hoped she wouldn't have to leave him soon. It felt nice to be truly safe for once.

The Courier gave Sadie some caps in case she needed food or water, and watched her begin to walk (with a slight limp) to the Atomic Wrangler. She was beautiful. He admired her curves from behind for a few moments, until he saw that she was nearing the Wrangler's doors. He finally pulled his attention away and focused on his next task. It was time to get his revenge.


	4. Joana

Joana sat at the bar in the Tops Restaurant. She wore a deep red, low cut, form fitting dress and character heels. In front of her stood the bartender, pouring someone else's drink-was he staring at her breasts? She crossed her arms to cover herself. Pig. She knew that Benny would come in soon. He told her once, after he made use of her services, that you can always find him at the kitchen's bar at 6:00pm. Joana was nervous about the job in front of her. Nervous and relieved, because at this point she knew that the Courier had escorted her two coworkers, and more importantly, Carlitos, out of the Strip safely. Well, she had no way of knowing for sure of their safety, but she trusted the man. Maybe that was because she had always found the mysterious, silent types sexy. Furthermore, one didn't walk around with two guns, an armored duster, and a bullet hole scar in the forehead without knowing their way around a fight. The Courier's end of the deal was done, she was sure of it. Now she had to get a dangerous man (who had been known to shoot innocent people in the forehead, judging from the Courier) alone and defenseless.

As if on cue, the door swung open and in walked Benny, surrounded by four fedora wearing bodyguards with permanent frowns. They each held a 10mm submachine gun in their right hands pointing forward from the hip. Sadie's intel to the Courier had been good. He really did have guards around him now. Benny's eyes lighted on Joana, first the back of her head, and then lower, and then even lower. _I couldn't mistake that ass anywhere, _he thought as he beheld Joana's form from behind. His bodyguards noticed that his attention was on this mysterious lady, and they pointed their weapons casually in her direction. With a gesture and a "Don't worry boys, she's cool," Benny called them off.

"Joana! What brings you to my humble abode?" Benny asked, a bit too loudly.

"I missed you, Benny." Joana said in her trademarked high, sultry voice, turning to face him.

"We both know that's a lie, sugar."

"Okay, the truth is," Joana lied, "I'm a bit short on caps this month. Things have been slow with the threat of the Legion and all, I guess. I gotta eat though, and I'm willing to… work for it." The slightest shadow of suspicion showed on Benny's face for half a second. Joana _never_ came to him. Then again, Swank had been telling him the past few days that he was being unnecessarily paranoid and needed to "just calm down, baby." He decided to take Joana's words at face value, and realized that he could get some action for cheap. He began to talk smooth.

"Okay, sugar. You've always been one of my favorite girls," Benny began. Joana smiled sarcastically.

"And I've been a little bit stressed out lately, as you can probably tell what with the hired muscle I have with me. Maybe a night with you will help the old nerves out, you dig? As long as the price is reasonable."

"For 50 caps and a couple drinks you can have me all night, Benny." Joana replied. _50 caps is less than a third of her usual 'all night' fee,_ Benny thought, slightly confused. Joana wasn't the kind of girl to charge fees so cheap. Or, for that matter, the kind of girl to solicit men outside of her casino where she had protection. Did someone send her to kill him? Benny dismissed the thought as overly paranoid. He would have to keep his guard up no matter what though. He inhaled a little bit, and smelled Joana's perfume that he was used to. He decided that he owed himself an evening of fun. And maybe it would take his mind off of the man he had killed the week previously. Perhaps the sex would help him sleep.

"Okay sugar. I'll pay you after. Let's go." Ordered Benny, straight to the point. Joana's face flushed with false gratitude. She hopped up and starting walking out of the restaurant with Benny and his guards before stopping suddenly.

"Oh, and Benny?" she called. He turned to face her, somewhat impatiently. "tell your bartenders to stop ogling your customers."

The server behind the bar started, averting his gaze from Joana's rear end. He locked eyes with Benny and smiled nervously, then grabbed a nearby glass and tried to look busy cleaning it.

* * *

Benny gestured for Joana to sit down on one of the couches in his room. Then he poured whiskey into a couple of glasses and set them on the table in front of them. Benny eyed her as she took a sip of the drink. Ever since he ordered his guards to wait for him downstairs while he took Joana up to floor 13 for the night, he had been acting somewhat strangely. Joana didn't have a religion, but she prayed that Benny had not caught on to her. She thought about it for a moment. Benny was probably just suffering separation anxiety from his bodyguards. He cast another shifty look in her direction.

"Alright sugar, don't be afraid to make yourself comfortable. I'm going to change." Benny stated before walking into his bedroom and closing the door. Joana stared at the door for a few seconds. _Well, now or never_, she concluded. Joana pulled the white pill from her bra. It was a dose of venom from the Cazadore, enough to knock a man of Benny's weight out cold for a few hours. She dropped it into Benny's whiskey glass and stirred it with her finger until it dissolved completely. A couple more minutes passed before Benny reemerged, wearing silken sleepwear. Joana's heart rate had been slowly increasing all the while. Benny sat down next to her and put an arm around her shoulder. He smiled his signature smile, the one that could either mean he was happy to see you, or that he was sorry but he needed the platinum chip and was forced to put a bullet in your brain. Joana's heart pounded.

Benny lifted the drink to his lips and then hesitated. He sniffed. A slight grimace temporarily showed on his face. He set the glass down, hand trembling. He knew.

"You bitch." He said quietly, dead serious. Joana opened her mouth to offer an excuse, an explanation, anything, but couldn't find any words. She tried to get up, to get away. Benny was on her lightning fast. He grabbed her by the shoulders and threw her into the nearest wall. Joana slammed into it like a sack of potatoes, her breath completely knocked out.

"WHO THE HELL SENT YOU!?" Benny half screamed, advancing upon Joana. She was on her hands and knees, struggling to breathe. She tried to mouth 'nobody' but couldn't find the air, and just wheezed instead. Benny grabbed her by the hair and yanked her back up to her feet. He was clearly past sanity and lucidity, practically foaming at the mouth. Growing increasingly angry at the lack of her response, he backhanded her across the side of the face. Joana fell once more. She curled in a ball and waited for more blows, but they didn't come. A full minute passed. Shaking violently, she brought herself to her feet and turned to face Benny. He was pointing his 9mm at her.

"You will answer me, dig? Or I will shoot you. Tell me right now. Who sent you?" He demanded. Joana decided that it wasn't worth withholding the information. She hoped that Carlitos made it out of the Strip. It was looking like she wouldn't.

"I don't know his name. He called himself the Courier-" She started. Benny's eyes widened. He was so shocked that he dropped his pistol. There was no sound beside the clatter of the gun when it hit the floor. Benny quietly asked her to repeat herself. She did.

His right eye twitched and he made an expression between fear and hate. She inhaled sharply. His breathing grew ragged and his face grew steadily red. Her face grew pale. He took a step toward her; she took a step back. His pace quickened. She tripped and fell backward, knocking down a tall lamp behind her. He stood over her and bent down. She gasped. He put his hands on her throat and fastened his grip.


	5. The Courier's Name

The Courier entered the strip wearing a baseball cap and some sunglasses, and made his way immediately to the Tops, almost salivating at the prospect of his revenge. At the front door of the casino he was greeted at the front desk. The chairman asked for his weapons, and he complied, giving him both of his revolvers. The doorman didn't know that The Courier concealed a 9mm pistol in the inside jacket of his duster, one with a bullet in the chamber that read '_BENNY_' on the side.

As expected he had no trouble getting to the 13th floor or finding Benny's room. The bodyguards were nowhere to be found. The Courier found the door to Benny's room unlocked. Odd, he thought he would have to call Joana to unlock it. Maybe she left it unlocked in anticipation of the Courier coming. Smart girl, and useful too. The Courier opened the door.

Inside he looked upon a murder scene. A lamp was knocked over. A cup of whiskey had spilled into the carpet. In between the table and the lamp lay Joana, face up.

He surveyed the Courier saw bruises in the shape of fingers on her neck. Her eyes bulged slightly. Strangulation. It was sad that the girl had died, and he knew Carlitos would take it hard, but she knew the risks of the job just like the Courier knew the risks of escorting Carlitos and the girls out of the strip. _Carlitos won't take it well__, _he surmised.

The Courier noticed a note stuffed into her dress, between her breasts. He grabbed it.

_Dear Courier. Sorry that I couldn't be here to meet you in person baby, but I'm afraid you wouldn't be very friendly. The girl you sent over was pretty ring-a-ding but as you can see I had to choke her. Something about slipping poison into my drink, if you'll believe it! Anyway, I've run away with the chip and I took my guards with me. Don't bother trying to find me. Not that you'll be able to. I had a man watch the door to my room for anyone coming in. I'm sure by the time you're done reading this he'll have a gun on you._

Sure enough, when the Courier finished reading the note he felt the barrel of a pistol pressed into his back.

"It's been a pleasure. I hope your experience here has been the Tops!" said the voice behind him.

The Courier whipped around. The Chairman fired, the bullet slamming into the armor plating on his chest. The Courier had his wind knocked out, but he couldn't give up now. He grabbed onto the gun, the 10mm and pointed it towards the floor. They both struggled to gain control of the weapon. Then, the Courier kicked the man's leg out from under him. He fell hard, and the Courier wrested control of the 10mm. and the Chairmen covered his face with his hands, as if they could stop a bullet.

"Please! I didn't- I can't-" he stammered.

Catching his breath, the Courier took out and pocketed the magazine of the weapon. Then he threw the gun sans bullets onto the ground. He stepped over the Chairman and out of the door of Benny's room. He wondered if the gunshot would attract any other potential guards on the floor, but there were none. He left the Tops.

* * *

The Courier remembered nothing about his life before Benny shot him in the head, until now. He was walking out of the Strip, bound for the Old Mormon Fort to inform Carlitos about the loss of Joana, and then to the Atomic Wrangler and Sadie. He put a hand on one of his revolvers and attempted with his utmost muster to remember where he learned to shoot them. Suddenly, a flashback hit him as hard as if he were hit by the monorail that runs between the Strip and McCarran.

A memory from when the Courier was a young boy shot into his mind. Hunched down with a stick in his left hand, he was drawing figures in the sand outside of his homestead, a small brahmin ranch which sat a good walk south of Nipton. Back when the Courier was a child, Nipton didn't have the reputation that it did in the years right before it was destroyed. It was a small, respectable town. The Courier's father, a retired Courier himself, sometimes still did deliveries and odd jobs for the town, when the ranch didn't keep him busy.

All the young Courier had was his father. He had no siblings and his mother died when he was too young to remember her. He mostly spent his time running around the ranch playing with sticks and imaginary friends. Today he drew a battle scene with his favorite stick, one that took place on a gigantic dam. His father had told him stories about a great fight that broke out over Hoover Dam, a huge stone structure some odd miles east of the ranch, and it caused the Courier's imagination to run wild. He drew the scene of the First Battle of Hoover Dam, using the stories as a reference, and anything that the stories left out he would add in using his imagination. He was so intently focused on the drawing that he barely noticed the gunshot in the distance, and the bullet whizzing a few yards to his left.

_Dad must be hunting again, _the young Courier thought to himself, wondering if he should add another drawing of Boulder City a few steps away. He didn't look up until the front door of the ranch house burst open and his father came out, a revolver in each hand. He was wearing a simple flannel shirt and jeans, a straw hat on his head, and an exasperated, desperate expression.

"David! Get in the house!" His father called, beckoning towards the open door. The Courier, David, snapped out of his drawing, dropped his stick and ran. He sensed that something was very wrong. He looked back and saw a group of five men, some with shaved heads and others with mohawks, wearing weird leather armor. They all had guns in their hands except one who had a baseball bat. They walked towards the ranch house, one hundred meters away. David's dad ordered him again.

"Stay in here! These are raiders, they're dangerous, but I should be able to handle them. No matter what, do not come outside, do you understand, boy?" The young Courier said yes as he flew past his father through the open door. He was frightened, more frightened than he had ever been before. His father closed the door, leaving his son inside. After a few seconds he heard more gunshots. The brahmin brayed loudly and rushed to the opposite side of their pen, clearly spooked.

He counted five shots before curiosity set in. After the ninth, he crept back to the door and opened it up a crack. He was scared, but he had to see. From the door he couldn't see anything, but he could still hear gunshots. And yells. He heard the bad men yelling things to one another. _Maybe they won? Maybe they got dad! _The thought twisted his stomach. David had to see. Opening the door, he walked outside, and then dropped to a crouch.

His father crouched behind a rock 25 meters away from and to the right of the door. He was loading bullets into one of his revolvers, one by one. He didn't notice his son. David began silently walking towards the rock like he did whenever his dad took him gecko hunting. He never got to shoot the geckos himself, but he still had a lot of fun. Right now he was having the opposite of fun.

Young David scanned the area. Two of the bad guys were lying face down, probably dead. They weren't much closer to the house than when David had last seen them. He saw another one crouched behind a rock. From behind the rock came voices.

"I told you this wasn't a good idea, boss. I said, 'We shouldn't mess with old Irvine Marshall.' Why didn't you lis-" The first voice whined, but was interrupted.

"Shut the hell up Butch! Us three can still take him." Commanded the second voice.

"Yeah! He's gotta have a ton of caps in his shithole house, and we can sell the boy to the cannibal tribals who live in that fancy casino." Added the third voice, all three of them emanating from behind the rock.

"Okay, on three we all charge him," began the second voice, "one...two...three!" They came out from their cover. David laid on the ground, hoping to be unnoticed. His dad could hear the whole conversation and stood up, facing the raiders. They came at him, one with a baseball bat and the other two with pistols firing wildly. Aiming a firearm properly while running at the target is difficult, and these two were definitely not masters. Not a bullet came close to Irvine. Calmly, he aimed at the baseball bat wielder who was closer to him than the other two and fired. Both bullets hit him square in the chest and the man fell as if he had run into a clothesline. One of the raiders stopped shooting to reload, and Irvine blaster him through the side of the head. The last one looked at his two fallen allies, dropped his weapon, and ran.

"Tell your friends to never come 'round these parts unless they wanna die too, y'hear!" Called Irvine after the man. David stood up, ecstatic.

"Dad! That was so cool! You just took those bad guys out like it was nothing!" He exclaimed. His father set eyes on him, his face growing angry.

"I told you to stay inside! Go back in there! When I tell you to do something I expect you to do it!" his father yelled harshly. David went back in.

His dad came in a couple hours later, after dark. The man barely spoke to his son. The next day, the bodies were gone, and David was busy with his Hoover Dam drawing again. Irvine came up behind him. He had returned to his usual calm, direct manner since the previous day.

"Today I'm going to teach you how to shoot."

David's father handed him one of his .357 revolvers with a long barrel and motioned for him to follow.

* * *

David was a natural. He quickly learned the nuances of shooting, so much so that it impressed his old man, who was almost never surprised.

"Where did you learn to shoot, dad?" David asked on the walk back to the ranch house. His father looked off into the distance.

"I used to be a courier. I'd deliver things between towns."

"Did you ever get to shoot bad guys?" His father laughed, but then grew serious.

"Unfortunately, no. I often ran things for bad guys… and well, I ended up doing bad things. I won't go into detail, but I fear it gave me bad karma."

"What's that?"

"Well, the bad things you do. They have the tendency to catch up to you. It's all about balance. I think the universe is starting to pay me back for all of the things I've done in the past. That's why your mother died. That's why we got attacked by raiders yesterday. That's not the first time it happened. We were attacked a couple times before you were born. I thought it had ended, but now I'm afraid it won't end until I'm gone." That was the first time David had ever heard of his father being afraid of, or fearing anything. He took the lesson about balance to heart.

"When I'm big, I'm going to be a Courier too, but I'll only do good things!" David proclaimed exuberantly. His father smiled and ruffled his son's hair as they walked.

* * *

By the time the memories stopped coming to The Courier, he was outside the Old Mormon Fort. He had walked there on autopilot. He passed through a huge gate into the seemingly ancient walls and found Carlitos in the nearest tent. Carlitos stood up from his chair when he entered.

"Where's Joana?" He demanded, bewildered. The Courier said nothing. After a moment he took his hat off and held it with both hands. He looked down at the ground and shook his head. The fact that Joana was dead slowly registered with Carlitos. He stared at the Courier while the man shifted his hat to one hand. Carlitos' expression shifted into a contortion of rage. He drew his huge .44 magnum and aimed it at the Courier's face.

"I should shoot you right now, Goddammit! What's stopping me from shooting you right now?!"

The Courier thought about the situation for a moment. He moved his free hand to his forehead, deliberately doing it slowly. He pointed to his bullet hole scar.

"Bullets don't work on me as much as you might expect. And even if you managed to get past me, and nobody has yet, you'd have to deal with the squad of bodyguards that the Followers employ here." The Courier stated quietly.

Carlitos stared at him, gun hand shaking. After a few seconds he put the gun away. He hid his face in his hands and sobbed. The Courier attempted some comforting words.

"Joana did this to guarantee your safety. She saved you. I risked her life for her, and she risked her life for me. It was a deal. I regret that it turned out this way." The Courier turned and left, heading for the Atomic Wrangler.

It gave him peace to know his name again, and to remember his father. He remembered the lesson his father imparted to him on that hot day after learning to shoot. It was all about balance. The universe made sure that your bad deeds got paid back in full. The Courier couldn't wait to pay Benny back. But he now had no idea where Benny could even be. He needed to think. Before that, he needed to rest. He had been shot at too many times entirely today.

He went into the casino, waved at the Garret twins, sidestepped a guard, and walked up to his room. Sadie lay inside on the bed, dozing off, but when he came in she woke up. He was happy to see her, and she happy to see him. She sat up in bed, under the covers.

"Hello, Mr. Courier."

"Call me David."


	6. The Wrangler

"I… wow," Sadie began, wiping a tear from her cheek that had suddenly fallen, "I didn't know Joana that well, but it's still really sad." She sniffed. "I didn't really know her, since I was new to Gomorrah, and she sacrificed herself for my freedom. It's amazing." The Courier, David had just informed her about Joana's demise and Benny's subsequent escape. He sat down on the edge of the bed next to Sadie.

"And you!" Sadie continued, "I barely even know you and you took out a few of those Omerta rats so I could escape!" She turned and the two looked each other in the eyes. After a second, Sadie cast her eyes downward.

"I don't have anything to repay you with." She hesitated. "I guess I could offer you my services?" She asked, raising her eyes back to meet his.

"No." David stated somewhat abruptly. "I don't need payment of any kind. Besides, Joana held up her end of the deal to get you guys out of Gomorrah. To be honest," He ventured, "I was glad to do it for you." A hint of blush displayed on the girl's cheeks. No, the woman's cheeks. She wasn't a girl anymore. In fact, the Courier guessed, she was probably only a couple of years younger than he. And her time in Gomorrah, however short, had aged her.

All of the sudden, the weight of long day made itself felt on David. The deal with Joana in the evening, and the escort job afterward. By the time he found Joana, got out of the Tops, and came back to the Wrangler, it must've been around 10:00, but it felt much later. He stood up and shrugged off his duster, laying it on an adjacent chair. He undressed until only his undershirt and pants remained. Sadie watched him while he undressed for a bit, and then when she realized what she was doing, looked away. She was still sitting up under the covers. David resumed his position sitting on the edge of the bed after putting his revolvers next to him on the nightstand. Sadie asked him what he was going to do next. He stroked his goatee for a moment.

"I really don't know. Benny's gone from the Tops now, but there's no way he's gone from the Mojave. To the east is Legion, and the NCR to the West wouldn't exactly grant him asylum. I just don't know where to find him. What about you?" The question surprised her. She imagined that the Courier wanted to know what her plans were now that she was free.

"I don't exactly have anywhere to go. I've never had a home…" She trailed off, truly flabbergasted about the future. The Courier turned to her, a smile in his eyes.

"You could come with me. I'm serious. The Mojave's a tough place, and I'm tired of walking it alone. After I finish up in this city, I'll be headed for Novac," He saw the confused expression on Sadie's face, "It's a small town south of here, built around a motel. It's much safer. I have a room there, and I've been calling it home since I got shot…" Sadie's eyes strayed to David's bullet hole shaped scar on his forehead. She couldn't hide her grimace of disgust. He chuckled.

"It's alright. I get that kind of reaction a lot. I ignore it. Besides, my hat will cover it most of the time. Anyways, what do you say?" Sadie thought about it for a moment. She had never actually been outside of New Vegas, and she didn't know what it was like, as evidenced by her lack of knowledge about Novac. The prospect frightened her slightly. After a while the Courier spoke again.

"It's alright if you need time to think about it. I need time to think about how I'm going to get at Benny, anyway. We can sleep on it-Is it alright if we both use this bed?" Now it was Sadie's turn to chuckle.

"I'm used to sharing more than just a bed with men, even the stoic cowboy types like you" She said with a coy smile. The Courier lifted up the covers and lay down, and Sadie followed suit. Sadie didn't know how she felt about him, but she was very glad that it was him of all people laying beside her. He turned the lamp off.

After a few minutes she spoke up.

"I'm sorry. I'm having a hard time sleeping, do you think we could talk…?" David nodded, and then realized that in the darkness she wouldn't be able to see him.

"Yeah, sure, sure. What did you want to talk about?"

"I'm just curious. Why did Benny shoot you?" She quickly added, "If it's not too personal."

"Not at all. From what I gathered afterwards, I was carrying a Platinum Chip of some value. I was supposed to bring it to New Vegas. Benny took it from me and shot me. I'm going to make sure that I get the Chip back… and shoot him in the forehead. Whether he lives, like I did, is his business. If that's too violent, I understand. If you travel with me, there'll be blood."

"No, it's not the violence part that makes me hesitate about your offer… You see, I was born and raised in Freeside. In fact, never been out. As a kid I stayed around the Old Mormon Fort. Not… all of my friends made it to adulthood. By the time I was a woman, Freeside had gotten especially bad. I fed myself for a few years the same way that I would feed myself at Gomorrah. I'm not proud of that but I'm alive and some others aren't." She said the last sentence in a defensive tone. She cooled down. "I got offered a job doing the same thing, but with more security and more pay. That was a mistake. Girls at Gomorrah would go missing frequently. Oftentimes customers would beat them, sometimes really badly. I was lucky to get out. Thank you."

Her hand found his under the covers. He gave it a light squeeze and expected Sadie to withdraw it. But the hand stayed.

* * *

Suddenly David was a few years younger, and walking along a road outside of Nipton. He was proud. He had just finished his first job as a Courier. _A good courier, _He thought to himself as he smiled. He had ran a bundle of letters from Nipton to Primm. Hopefully the first job in a long and honest Courier career. At Primm he met Johnson Nash, the man who ran the Mojave Express. David hoped to gain a full time job from him in the future.

As he neared the ranch house he saw that it was burning. The livestock were gone, and the house was almost gone up in flames. Only a little bit of the house remained. Some charred beams and red hot sheets of metal that used to serve as walls. He found his father outside the house on the ground. Dead.

Irvine held a longbarrel .357 revolver in each hand. He had bullet holes in his abdomen. Three of them. They looked relatively small caliber. On his torso he wore only an undershirt, the front soaked with blood. David stared at his father's corpse, uncomprehendingly. For a while his mind couldn't grasp what had happened. After ten seconds he dropped to his knees and roared in anguish. He laid his head down on his passed father's chest, and stayed there for a while.

He got up. He delicately but firmly pried the revolvers from his hands. He vowed revenge.

* * *

The Courier shot awake. The atomic clock in the room read 1:42 am. He realized that Benny must have told somebody where he was going. It wasn't like him to leave without informing at least somebody about his plans, where he would go and when he would come back. Benny was usually keen on details.

"Swank!" he exclaimed, a little bit too loudly. Sadie stirred, and then a cute 'huh' emitted from her side of the bed.

"I'm sorry I woke you up. I just realized that Benny had to have told Swank his wherabouts. Please, just stay here," he requested as he threw off the covers, letting go of Sadie's hand. "I'll be back before sunrise."


	7. Swank

_Shortly after Joana's death…_

Swank stood on the casino floor, arms crossed, next to the floor manager. The manager was gesturing with his hands arguing with an irate customer who had just lost a hand at blackjack.

"Maybe the rules are different elsewhere," he said, intently pointing towards the door, "but here at the Tops, if you go over 21, you lose the hand, alright?" The gambler had a sharp intake of breath and repeated exasperatedly that the dealer counted his ace as a 10 instead of a 1 and he still had room for at least another hit and a chance to win. The man looked as if he could turn violent. The floor manager sighed and pleaded with his eyes for Swank to back him up. Swank, a man who had both an innate skill for settling disputes and an extreme dislike of violence in his establishment, had other ideas.

"Keep it chill, baby. I'm willing to believe that the dealer messed up. Now, I'm not saying one way or the other that he did or didn't, dig, but I'm willing to believe it. How much did you lose that hand?"

"Twenty-five caps." replied the man gruffly. Inside, Swank was flabbergasted and even angry that the customer would cause such a scene over such a trifling amount, but he didn't let any of that show. In fact, a small loss would be easy to deal with. He could just recompensate the gambler to pacify him, and watch him lose the 25 caps fair-and-square the next hand.

"Alright alright, high roller. Just follow my man here, the manager. He'll get you set up with 25 caps in chips at the exchange window." Swank said. The anger cleared from the gambler's face, and he obliged to go with the floor manager. The manager cast Swank a look of annoyance, presumably for losing the house a whopping 25 bottlecaps. _Why'd Benny hire a floor manager who's such a cranky cat? _Swank wondered. After all, besides standing watch to make sure there was no cheating on the part of the gamblers and no _visible_ cheating on the part of the dealers, the only duty the floor manager had was to settle disputes. Swank shrugged and lit up a cigarette.

Sure enough, when the recompensated gambler went back to playing blackjack he lost the 25 caps in one hand. Swank took a drag on the cigarette and shot the scowling floor manager an I-told-you-so look. There was a reason Swank was Benny's second in command.

Swank felt a weak hand on his shoulder. He turned around to see Benny himself standing behind him. He looked like a ghost. His face was ashen and he had a crazed look in his eye. Benny motioned Swank to come with him. Swank put out his cigarette and followed, up to Benny's room. He found the room the same way the Courier would in half an hour or so. Swank laid eyes on Joana's corpse and nearly vomited.

"Ho-holy shit Benny what happened?" Swank asked, feeling like he had been punched in the stomach. Benny said nothing, and handed Swank the note that he had written. It stated, in Benny's language, that he had strangled the girl, ran away with his bodyguards, and had posted a guard outside his room to kill the man who found her. Swank handed the note back to Benny, who stuffed it into the corpse. The language in the note made Benny sound much braver and tougher than he looked to Swank.

"Who's body is this? Who'd you write the note to? I need to sit down." Swank said, sinking into a nearby armchair. He covered his face with his hands, took a deep breath, and dropped his hands again. Then he looked at Benny.

"Benny. Talk." he demanded, using a serious tone that he had never before used with his friend. Benny paced near the doorway for a second, evidently clearing his head before speaking up.

"The girl's just some whore. What matters is who sent her. You remember my business trip and the chip I came back with?" Swank nodded. "Well the person who had the chip before me was a Courier. A real tough character. Me and a couple khans, we jumped him, dig? I shot him right in the forehead. I took the chip. We left him in a grave, man. But he's back!" Benny exclaimed before going back to pacing the floor.

"What makes you say that?" Swank prodded. Benny was silent for a long time before answering.

"I always had that feeling that I was going to get paid back for shooting him. I knew it. I talked to you about the feeling a couple of days ago. The whore tried poisoning me. She told me the Courier sent her. He's comin' for me, Swank," Benny declared. Swank sat there stroking his chin before putting his hand on the 10mm submachine gun on his hip which he had never shot, just to make sure it was still there. After a couple of minutes Benny stopped pacing and seemed to calm down.

"I figured out what to do, baby. I'm skipping town, Swank. I'll taking the new bodyguard hires and go to Red Rock Canyon. I have friends there. Don't tell anyone my destination unless you're forced, you dig?" Swank nodded. He guessed that if Benny was leaving, that made him the boss now. He wasn't sure he was ready for that. Benny had the skills of persuasion and organization. He made the Tops great. Sure, Swank could hold down the fort and deal with people, sure, but not in the same way.

"How long are you gonna be gone, Benny?" Swank inquired. Benny shrugged and told him that he would be away from Vegas until the Courier was dead or Benny was sure that it would be safe to return. Swank nodded again.

With a wink and a 'you're the best, baby,' Swank ring-a-dinged out of his room and soon out of the Tops with his bodyguard crew.

Swank went downstairs to the Aces Theater to watch a new singer perform. The singer wasn't exceptional, but passable. Swank was now the chairman of the Chairmen, the manager of the Tops, indefinitely. He didn't know if he was ready to start calling the shots, but he knew what he would do first as the boss. He was going to get a new floor manager.

About an hour later when the singer had nearly finished hit set, the man Benny had posted at his room's door came up behind Swank, out of breath.

"What is it?" Swank asked while the man gathered his breath and his wits. The man exclaimed something about a man coming into the room and then overpowering him and fleeing the casino. Swank gasped. _That must have been the Courier, _he thought with a slight panic. Then Swank remembered that the Courier was only after Benny, not the Chairmen, and calmed down. Benny was gone and the Courier wouldn't find him. The Tops was safe. Swank ordered the man to clean up Benny's room and then lock it up.

When the singer finished, Swank retired to his room for the night. When he was awakened only two hours later, most of his men were dead and a gun was pointed at his face.


	8. The Chairmen

_A/N: This update is behind schedule. Sorry._

* * *

_Roughly an hour before Swank's rude awakening…_

David realized that he had forgot his desperado cowboy hat. Even though it was nearly 2:00 in the morning, gamblers still milled about the Strip, most of them drunk. The bullet-hole shaped scar on the Courier's bare forehead attracted a fair share of gawking from the people on the Strip. The Courier ignored them. He was entirely focused on the task of getting to Swank and getting the information of Benny's whereabouts. Nothing else mattered. He neared the Tops.

David opened one of the front doors to the Tops casino. The place was more or less as he left it. Then, the doorman eyed him, eyes narrowing upon recognizing the Courier. He pulled out his 10mm submachine gun, yelled "It's him!" and opened fire. In a couple seconds two of his colleagues joined them, spraying hot lead in the Courier's direction. David, however, was a man of quick instincts and even quicker reflexes. He dove outside and let the front door of the Tops take the bullets for him. He analyzed the situation. _Clearly I'm no longer welcome at the Tops casino…_ David thought dryly. To get to Swank he would probably have to go through the entire roster of Chairmen, all of whom were packing some serious equipment, if lacking any real armor. The Courier's chances of making it to Swank without taking a couple of hits were low. And besides, he didn't have enough bullets for them all, even if he only used one per chairman. He needed a different plan.

He stole out into the Strip, away from the Tops. _They won't leave the protection of their fortress, _David thought, _they think they're safe in there. _

He knew that he needed reinforcements and he had a good idea of where he could find some. David walked directly to the Lucky 38 casino. When people in the Mojave talked about 'the tower,' this is what they were referring to. David remembered being able to see the tall casino even from Goodsprings. It was no doubt the tallest structure in the New Vegas area, and if the Courier had any idea of who House, the place's owner was, then he knew that he would find the man at the very top of the place. All that the Courier knew about House was that he was enigmatic and powerful, and that the Courier regretted ever trying to run a package for him. The Courier had never failed a delivery before, and so he felt more than a little embarrassment to go see his client while empty-handed. But if anyone would help David get at Benny, it would be House, who from all accounts really wanted the chip that Benny took from him. David stepped up to the tower, ignoring a nearby Securitron named Victor who admonished him for not going to see House sooner.

The interior had been untouched for over 200 years. It didn't look much different than interior of the Tops with different tables, machines, and a bar, but it had a certain historic ambience to it that the Tops lacked. David went to the elevator where he found Victor again (apparently his personality could switch from robot to robot) and rode it to the penthouse.

* * *

"You could have come to me earlier, you know. You could have assisted me in reclaiming my chip using my help."

David was unfazed that he was being lectured by an image of a man's face appearing on a giant screen. He figured that since House must be around 250 years old he must have been preserved artificially in some way. It just so happened that House knew enough about computers to put himself inside one. And besides, House paid, and wasn't shady. That was all David cared about in a client.

"I wanted to make sure I had the Chip before seeing you. I messed up on the delivery, and you can take it out of my pay."

"On the contrary, Courier number six. You will be paid at least double for all of the trouble I've put you through. You have my sincere condolences after getting robbed by Benny. He's been under my thumb trying to usurp me for a while, and with the Platinum Chip in his possession he has a scant chance of succeeding. We can't have that. That's why I'm willing to give you access to my resource and a larger reward than originally discussed. Now, what happened inside of the Tops? The only information I have is that Benny fled my city with my chip." House said. David paused for a minute to collect the story in his head.

"Okay. So I sent in a couple girls from Gomorrah, one to see what kind of defenses he had and the next to get him into a vulnerable position. I thought if I went in alone I wouldn't be able to get in close to him and I'd get lit up by all of his cronies," the Courier explained, "well the second girl's cover got blown and he killed her and flew the coop. I found her body, fought off a guard, and got out of there." He finished.

"I understand that you met some resistance when you returned. Two of my Securitrons reported shots fired just inside of the casino's entrance half an hour ago. That must have been you. Why do you want to go back?" House enquired.

"You're right. As soon as I opened the door they opened fire. I barely got out, and they riddled the door behind me with 10mm subs. I went back because I realized that Swank knows where Benny went," the Courier stated. He was fibbing slightly; he didn't know for sure that Swank knew anything. "I need a way to get to him." Now it was House's turn to pause and consider.

"I have a few files about each casino that I allow the three tribes to run. This includes plans that detail how to remove each tribe if their behavior becomes too unsavory for my liking. I'm reviewing the Tops file, and it appears that… yes, we can do that…" David was confused, and he let it register on his face. He didn't know whether House could see it or not. "The Chairmen, Benny in particular, have been a thorn on my side for far too long. I've been letting Benny slide because of his apparent harmlessness, and without the Chairmen the Tops would just sit empty… But now Benny and his gang are unacceptable-"

"And the Garrets at the Atomic Wrangler could take over the Tops." David added.

"Yes, I've considered that, and they would make an excellent addition the Strip. I'll focus on the logistics of that move after we remove the Chairmen. Are you prepared to take part in this little coup tonight?" David nodded. "Good, good. Me and my Securitrons will do most of the work. Allow me to share the details of the plan…"

Fifteen minutes later, David stood outside of the Tops casino flanked by five Securitrons on each side. House could control them from his tower, and instructed David to follow the Securitrons inside and stay out of the way of the fighting. Ten Securitrons against upwards of thirty Chairmen? It would be a close battle, and one that Robert House would deem too costly. It was difficult to replace Securitrons. Luckily, the old RobCo CEO had an ace up his sleeve. He could control the electricity in New Vegas. Even though the main electrical controls for The Tops were housed inside the Casino where House couldn't access them, he had the ability to short out the power for at least ten minutes. In the ensuing darkness, House told David, the Securitrons would have the advantage. David didn't know why, perhaps the robots had sensors that let them see in the dark, or some kind of rudimentary sonar, but it didn't really matter to him. He was set on his goal: Swank.

After standing still for a minute and receiving plenty of attention from the Strip's denizens, David (and the Securitrons) heard a couple of screams from inside the casino. The lights must have gone out. The Securitrons advanced.

They took aim at a couple of the doors with their grenade launchers and blew them open. Inside the door the Courier only saw darkness. The Securitrons flooded inside, followed by the Courier. The casino was pitch black. The Securitrons opened fire with their laser guns, the bright shots briefly illuminating the areas around each ray. Cowering gamblers, erratically firing Chairmen and the various gambling areas would briefly flash red. The Courier hoped that the Securitrons would know not to shoot Swank if he was on the main floor. House assured him that the robots would know. Shouts, laser blasts and gunshots filled the air. David walked tentatively, stepping over a dead chairmen and then putting his foot straight into a pile of ash. A gambler crawled past him on his left towards the exit.

After ten minutes the shooting died down and the laser fire ceased. A nearby Securitron reported:

"Entity 'Swank' not detected on this floor." The Courier looked towards the robot, nodded, and headed towards the elevator as electricity began to kick in. Unless Swank walked down 13 floors of stairs, he would be stuck on that floor while the power was off. The Courier was hoping that he would find Swank sleeping.

And he did. David located Swank's room, door unlocked. _Amateur._ He opened the door as quietly as he can, drew one of his longbarrel revolvers, and flipped the light on. By the time Swank was fully awake, David had the barrel a couple inches away from the Chairman's face.


	9. Three Conversations

Swank raised his hands, palms facing David, the universal sign of surrender. Internally, Swank was very scared. This man was definitely the same man that caused Benny, Swank's boss, a man who he had regarded as fearless, to run away from the casino with a squad of bodyguards. Nevertheless, Swank attempted to be tough.

"Am I supposed to be impressed, cowboy? What the hell do you want? " He asked the man standing beside his bed with an air of defiance. The 'cowboy' chuckled, and adjusted his grip on the weapon. He had a revolver with a lengthy barrel in his left hand, levelled between Swank's eyes, and the other hand at his side next to a second, identical gun.

"All of your friends are dead. The Securitrons executed a perfect coup d'etat. The Garrets are taking over this establishment. Whether you live or die right now depends on whether you drop the attitude and tell me what I want to know." David stated. Swank quickly dropped the macho act.

"Please, please, please don't shoot me," he begged, feeling as if he wanted to vomit. "What do you need to know?"

"You should probably be able to guess," The Courier replied, pausing a little bit for dramatic effect, "Where's Benny?" he interrogated. Swank stayed silence for a few seconds. Benny had told him not to betray his location unless he was forced. Benny would be furious if Swank talked, sure, but The Courier was going to kill him. Swank looked the cowboy in the eye for a few seconds. He saw no sign of hesitation, that the man would kill him if he refused to divulge the secret. He made a decision.

"Benny told he was headed to Red Rock Canyon where the Khans could protect him. That's all I know, dig? Please."

Swank had conveniently left out the part that Benny had left with a cadre of guards.

"Does he plan to stay at Red Rock Canyon?"

"As far as I can tell.. I mean he don't exactly have anywhere else to go." The Courier thought for a moment and then nodded.

"I'll throw in a good word with the Garret twins. Maybe they can offer you a position as a cook or a janitor."

With that, David walked out of the room, holstering his gun and never looking back. It was only then that Swank realized the sheet laying on him was wet with his urine.

As The Courier walked out of the Tops he thought of his options. Benny had left hours previously, and was perhaps already at Red Rock Canyon. It would be pointless to pursue him straight there. Especially since Benny would have protection in the form of Great Khans once he made it. David briefly pondered how Benny would make it alone through the Fiends raider territory in West Vegas on the way to Red Rock. _He would find a way_, David thought. Benny seemed to have a way of squirming out of tight situations. David resolved to kill Benny no matter what the cost. If not for his own sake, then at least for Joana's. This meant he would have to go back to Novac and restock on ammunition, buy Stimpaks and Med-X and get some equipment from his motel room. Essentially, he needed to prepare for war. He opened the exterior door of the Tops casino.

At around 4:00 am, the streets were nearly deserted. There were two NCR MP's standing guard, a man walking with a couple of girls towards Gomorrah, and a shifty looking man standing directly in front of David.

"Ave."

"Who the hell are you?" David asked, sizing the man up. He was dressed as a normal gambler but his posture didn't fit it. He was standing straight up, and directing a cold stare in The Courier's direction. And what did he just say? Ahway? Was he drunk?

"My name is Vulpes Inculta. I'm a Caesar's Legion Frumentarius, or a mix of a scout and spy in profligate language," he spoke without any emotion, "Your presence at the Fort is requested. I suggest that you take Caesar's-" a word he pronounced with a hard C sound "- invitation." The Courier stared at the man, unsure of what to do. He knew that he wanted nothing to do with the legion but was curious why he would be summoned to the Fort. He said nothing.

"I extend to you the mark of Caesar," Inculta said, holding out an odd necklace in his hand. David took it reluctantly.

"It guarantees you safe passage to Caesar, unless you commit any atrocities against the Legion from now on. We've spoken too long. Vale." he said before turning around and walking briskly away. David looked down at the necklace in his hand, turning it over a few times. He put it in his inside duster pocket. It could be something he would need later, but not now. His objective was Benny.

Around 4:30 in the morning, David entered his room at the Wrangler again. His entering woke her up.

"What happened?" She inquired, "I heard you mutter something about Swank before running off. I-I was worried." she admitted.

"I'm sorry. I realized Swank would know where Benny went and I was right. He's at Red Rock Canyon where he thinks I can't get to him."

"What are you going to do now?" she asked. He took the time to undress and re-enter the bed beside her before answering.

"I want to go to Novac. It'll have all of the supplies I need, and I have certain items in my motel room that will come in handy against Benny." He informed.

"Oh." She said passively, unsure what that meant for her.

"I want you to come with me." He requested, finding her hand under the covers once more and grasping it. She was quiet for a moment.

"I don't want my life to be endangered. And, well, I don't want yours to be either."

"You can stay in Novac while I venture to Red Rock. In fact, I would prefer it that way. It's gated, guarded, and populated with good folks. As for myself, you don't have to worry about me. I'll come back… Especially if I know that you'll be waiting for me." He replied. She blushed, and then David felt her small hand squeeze his own.

"I'll come with you."

Inside, David was elated, but he tried not to let it show too much on his face. He had the opportunity to make a better life for Sadie, and the thought of that oddly thrilled him. He had never been in love before.

"We can leave at a more godly hour. I need some shuteye myself. Is that alright?" Sadie nodded. David turned off the light.

It was one of the most peaceful sleeps either of them had ever had.

In the morning David checked out, and informed the Garrets that yes, no joke, the Tops belonged to them now. Mr. House would send Securitrons to escort the twins into the Strip and they would spend the day moving their essentials to their new place of business. For the first time since meeting him, David saw that James Garret was delighted.

David and Sadie had already packed up some food and water and a couple of bedrolls, and bid the Garret twins goodbye. They hit the road south for Novac.


	10. For Auld Irvine

The midday sun hung lightly above the Mojave Wasteland. David walked side by side with Sadie. He thought of long treks across the Mojave in his few years as a Courier. He wished Sadie could have been by his side for those lonely walks, as she was now. _That would have made my job a lot easier_, he thought with an inward chuckle. But the present was all that mattered, and so he was glad that right now, Sadie walked alongside him. They had made good progress and were most of the way to Novac. Up ahead, a few hundred yards on the right, stood the towering HELIOS One structure, second in prominence to the Lucky 38. David's mind wandered as it usually did on long journeys. A memory from before David was shot in the head suddenly flashed by, seemingly before his eyes. His mind took hold of it.

It was the day his father had died. In fact, it was only a couple hours after David had discovered Irvine's lifeless body outside of their ranch house near Nipton. David had just completed his first job as Courier before the death flipped his life upside down. He stood outside of a mineshaft door leading into a cave. He had tracked down the people that killed his father.

It was a relatively simple task. The raiders-David assumed they were raiders, after all, since raiders attacked the ranch house previously and he had tracked them back to a cave-had left an obvious trail. Perhaps they didn't realize that David would find his father's corpse so soon, or maybe they thought Irvine lived alone. They had led at least one brahmin away from the ranch house. There were intermittent brahmin tracks leading all the way to the cave. The trail was further solidified with a few cigarette butts, discarded pistol and rifle magazines (these lay closer to the ranch house), and of course, human footprints. David estimated there were four or five raiders who attacked his home, judging from the prints. One of them walked with a limp. About halfway between the house and the cave lay the body of one of the raiders. He had taken two bullets to the gut, and apparently when he finally succumbed to his injuries his allies had simply kept walking. It took an hour and a half for David to follow the trail to the hideout, and he estimated that, since he had lost the track a couple of times, it would only be an hour's walk at full speed. He made sure that both of his revolvers were fully loaded, and then entered the cave.

He was fully determined to avenge his father's death that very afternoon, no matter how many raiders he encountered inside and even if he had to die trying. He didn't even feel as if he were a human being, but some weapon manufactured expressly for the purpose of avenging Irvine. His only thoughts were of killing, and he didn't think about resting until the task was accomplished.

Inside of the cave was a passage that veered sharply to the left before going down a slight decline. This was advantageous. This meant that nobody could see David as he entered. He made sure to tread silently. The passage was illuminated by firelight. David could hear voices, most likely emanating from a chamber at the end of the passage.

"Damn, Irvine was a tough old man…" One voice began.

"You're telling me. Piece of shit shot up Derrick and hit my leg too," a second voice added.

"I don't think it was worth it, man. At least we can get some meat out of it. We'll slaughter the brahmin when the other two wake up," the first one said. David absorbed the information. At least two raiders occupied the chamber with the first.. Two were sleeping, either further in the cave or in the chamber with the fire. He wasn't going to wait until they were all awake. He pulled out both revolvers and took a cautious step into the passageway, taking the left turn. Two raiders sat across from each other on the log, one to the right of the passage entry and the other to the left. Neither paid attention to the passage. David thought about the scenario. The thing to worry about, when starting a gunfight in a small cave, is the ricochets. Missing the target could cause the bullet to bounce off of several surfaces and even come back and harm the shooter. David concluded that the best way to prevent a dangerous ricochet would be to hit every target. He raised his revolvers and pointed one at each visible raider. He fired.

Both raiders were hit in the head and fell away from David. The noise of the dual gunshots echoed through the cave. David walked quickly into the chamber. It was small, probably 12 feet by 10 feet, containing logs, a fire, and two recent raider corpses. To David's left was another passageway leading further into the cave. A voice issued from the passage.

"What the hell was that?" it asked. David heard rapid footsteps and then saw not one man but two running down the passage towards him. The raider in front fired several shots wildly with a 9mm pistol. None of the bullets found their mark, but they went on dangerous ricochets around the chamber. David fired both revolvers at this assailant. Two bullets ripped into his chest a couple of inches apart. He collapsed mid-stride, falling ungracefully down to the ground in front of David. He would be dead in a couple of minutes. The only people left were David and the last raider. The raider was armed with a large butcher knife, no doubt for the purpose of turning Irvine's brahmin into steak. He stood still at the mouth of the passageway, surveying his dead comrades before locking eyes with David. David felt a pang of mercy.

"Here's the deal. You all killed my dad and burned my house down. I have no reason to spare you, but I have two guns and you have a knife. Hardly fair. If you drop the blade now I'll spare you. Your move," he declared. He didn't imagine that the raider would possibly try him. But he did. He lunged forward with the knife attempting to close the distance and take David by surprise, but David had always been, and still was quicker than that. The raider received two .357 bullets to the face. He collapsed unceremoniously in the same manner as the one before him.

David realized that he hadn't taken a breath since he fired the first shots. He let out all of the air in his lungs before resuming a normal breathing pattern. He looked at the brahmin. It appeared scared and confused. David realized that he cherished the bovine, as it was the last thing that remained of his father's estate. At the same time, he wasn't going to keep it. He was interested in being a courier, not a caravaneer. He began untying the brahmin.

"David?!" called Sadie. He snapped back to the present. He stood next to Sadie on a highway in the Mojave near HELIOS One.

"Yeah what is it?" he asked, looking inquisitively at Sadie. She pointed ahead on the road. Near a billboard stood two figures, one in reinforced leather armor and the other in metal armor. They didn't appear friendly.

"Stay here. I'll handle this." He ordered gently, advancing up the road. As David got nearer he could see clearly that they were Viper gang, but he didn't shoot. A code of honor that he had adopted when he woke up after Benny shot him prevented him from shooting first. He put his hands on the handles of his revolvers. Sure enough, when he entered pistol range, the Vipers opened fire. A bullet hit and went through his duster where it hung down behind his right leg. David swore silently. He hated having to patch up his duster. Another shot hit him square in the chest where it was deflected off of his armor. It still hurt like hell and slammed into David's sternum. He fell to one knee. Twenty meters behind him, Sadie gasped.

He raised his revolvers and aimed at the raider in leather first. He was armed with a .357 himself, albeit one with a regular length barrel. He unloaded, emptying six rounds into the Viper's center of mass. He fell backwards, barely breathing. David stood up. The Viper in metal armor grinned maniacally. Only his head was exposed. During the shooting he had walked forward and now was only ten or so paces from David. He aimed for David's head. Just before the Viper pulled the trigger, David swayed quickly to the left, and heard the bullet whistle past him a couple of inches to the right of his head. _My turn, _David thought as he pulled the trigger on his right revolver.

The bullet moved through the air at roughly 1,200 feet per second directly towards the Viper's face. The round went straight through the raider's eye, first piercing the cornea and iris, then the pupil and lens after it, and causing an explosion of vitreous humor as it passed through. The bullet began to expand as it passed through the optic nerve, shredding the hypothalamus and grazing the brain stem. It tore through the cerebellum and passed through the back of the skull where the parietal bone and occipital bone meet.

The one-eyed, half-brained raider fell to his knees, swayed slightly, and then fell forward.

Sadie caught up to David and wrapped her arms around him. He held her close, and apologized for the violence. Then he promised to get her a gun once they made it to Novac and teach her how to shoot and protect herself once he got back from Red Rock Canyon.

The rest of the walk to Novac was uneventful.


End file.
